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“I could be,” he says laughing.
“What?” I’ve no idea what he finds so hilarious.
“You,” he says, “Constant source of amusement.”
“Lay down,” he says. The earlier gentleness in his voice is nowhere to be found. Before I have a chance to comply, he lays me down on the bed, pulls up my dress. I realize that I may have lost my panties along the way. He leans in and begins to caress my thighs with his rough hands.
“Let me see you,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
I unzip his pants and take it out. It’s bigger than I thought. And hard. Very, very hard. As I contemplate whether I can take him, he flips me over on my stomach and grabs me from behind. And before I can even take a breath, he’s thrusting, hard. Over and over. I don’t want this to stop, I don’t want to think if this is wrong or not. It feels so good. No shred of romance or dignity, he’s reduced me to this piece of meat that he’s taking and pleasuring himself with…like a sex doll of flesh and blood.
I lose track of everything but his hands on me and his hardness in me. Nd my mind keeps being dragged back in the haze every time it tries to escape. I am locked in the haze. I cannot leave. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. Forever.
I feel him get up to leave for his room.He was not kidding when he said he could have me at any time he pleased. So why did it take him so long?
“Stay with me.”
My voice is small, and I am not sure it’s even okay to ask.
“Of course,” he says. I collapse in his arms.
The next morning, I wake up, and he’s right there beside me.
“I don’t feel like we finished properly last night,” he said. “I’d like to spend the day with you. Whatever you want.”
And so, we do the normal things we like to do. We walk around the downtown area. Get coffee and pastries. Catch a matinee (I love afternoon movies). And when the day winds down, I wind up in his arms.And it is so, so lovely. Except he has to go to the airport for his red-eye flight. And now I’m alone trying to process what just happened.
* * *
July 17 , 3:30pm
Argh!I feel like pulling a pillow over my head! Sometimes I wanted to be left alone…but with Him. Being with Him felt the same as being alone. I don’t mean that in a negative sense, please don’t think that. I mean it in the sense that being with Him felt as comfortable as being undressed and alone, free of criticism or concerns of fitting in. My usual worries might flit in and try to invade our safe space, but that’s why I loved having him with me. He helped me kick them right back out, whereas I might let myself be overrun with my own insecurities. They didn’t belong in our nice, little utopia. Not that I needed this level of niceness. I could have lived in a tent, for all I cared.
Right, focus on what mattered. The client. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by pettiness and frustrations. Plus, I reminded myself, I wasn’t entirely cut off from the main office. I’d negotiated my position as the unofficial ambassador between offices. I’d see my old friends, every month or so.
Sure, I’d already gotten a bit disillusioned with the shine and glimmer of the startup world. I’d started to see what lay below the glitz— and it isn’t pretty. Still, I could do it.
I sit down.You know what I haven’t done in a far too long. A Tarot reading.I used to do them all the time, but the last few months I’ve been too busy building to reflect on what I’ve built.But I’m here all alone. Might as well.
I place the cards down, focusing on the Major Arcana this time,
The Chariot. Justice. The Hermit.
Well, certainly I’m on a journey. I need no mystical insight to seethat. I wonder, though, if it means more than my physical journey from one metropolis to the next. I feel like I’m headed towards something great. Butterflies stir in my stomach, and I amnota butterflies kind of girl. But it feels nice. Soft, like someone brushing a down feather against my cheek.
Justice. I would like some of that, to be frank. I’m a bit tired of being the scapegoat and the easy target. I’m young and cute and moderately intelligent. I wonder if I’m due for a bit of karma. Because for all my faults, I think I’m a good person. I try to be, if that counts for anything.
Finally, the Hermit. Perhaps, after I get some closure or some surety on the matters at hand, I can take a rest. Retreat? Even a vacation? Now that would be lovely. I haven’t traveled for far too long. I’d like to go somewhere and just be me.
* * *
10
Becoming an Outdoor Kitten
Idon’t remember our first kiss.
